


nur was dir gefällt

by bravinto



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Fluff and Smut, Food Kink, Hand Jobs, M/M, Sickfic, Tattoos, Weight Gain, mentions of BDSM?.., of sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-14
Updated: 2013-08-14
Packaged: 2017-12-23 12:23:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/926391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravinto/pseuds/bravinto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mild flu, donuts,  cuddles and belly rubs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	nur was dir gefällt

**Author's Note:**

> Well, people of the Pan Pacific, this is my first ever and, probably, only piece of fanfiction, that was born because sometimes you have to take matters in your own hands.  
> My friend [Pulvsi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Pulvsi/pseuds/Pulvsi) kindly did the beta-reading for it, but neither of us is a native speaker, so please forgive whatever mistakes I might have made and feel free to let me know so that I could correct them ~<3  
> The work was inspired by (obviously) the prompt, a conversation I had with a nice person on tumblr, and Charlie Day's general cuteness. It was also inspired and partly sponsored by Fazer chocolate donuts, because I've been eating them a lot.  
> Hermann and Newton belong to PPDC, del Toro and whoever owns the rights. I only borrowed them to play.  
> This was written as a fill for this prompt on Pacific Rim Kink Meme:  
> "This came about because I was browsing tumblr, and someone had an adorable description of Newton wherein they said he was cute "with big glasses and a chubby tummy." Looked at a couple more pictures and yeah, sure enough, it's one cute and chubby tummy, haha. I hadn't really noticed it before. Given the tattoos go all over his torso, I want to see something where Hermann Gottlieb is feeling him up and plays with his tummy pudge and the tats over his body. Maybe Hermann teases him about skin stretching and the effect on tattoo appearances, or just plain finds it amusing that the little scientist pretends (and fails generally) like he's a tough rock star cool guy but he's actually rather soft. 
> 
> Bonus if Hermann fucks Newt and pulls out to cum on his stomach. "

He slips awake silently at some point, and it feels like very early morning, but he can’t tell for sure because there are no windows in the infamous metal box. Newt is still asleep but stirring beside him. He smells of sweat and medicine and sleep, but he doesn’t smell of fever any more. Good.

 _Der Unerträgliche_ went down with a mild case of flu after running around in the rain, his usual excited self. There were several more people in the ‘Dome to fall ill, so, to avoid a large scale epidemics Newton was restricted to his quarters until he gets _exeat_ from their medical officers. He’s been having fever, headaches and nausea for the last couple of days. Hermann has taken a short leave as well, partly because neither of them can do much good without fresh data – and fresh data implies both new pieces of the puzzle and new tragedy; partly because the lab feels empty without their constant bickering and brainstorming, and Hermann can’t quite concentrate on his work anymore (it sounds disturbingly co-dependent, but he decides not to dwell upon it just now). Maybe it also has something to do with the fact that Newt is sick and lonely in his room and someone has to care for him. Hermann plans his escape on the time when Newton is not so sick anymore, but too weak to go back to work. He’ll be bored out of his mind and insufferable, that’s for sure. Hermann lifts on his arms and looks over Newt’s shoulder at the nightstand, where the clock is glowing vaguely Kaiju-blue. 3.47.

Hermann shifts his weight to free one arm and feel Newt’s forehead for fever. He hears a stifled yawn.

“Herms”, Newt slurs, his voice thick, “y’awake?..”

“Obviously”, Herman answers mechanically. “How are you feeling?”

“Tangled”, Newt says, kicking his feet free from the sheets, and adds after a short pause, “and better”.

Their bodies are equally hot and heavy with sleep, and Hermann can’t tell whether Newt has fever or not. He reaches for the nightstand and turns on a small bedside lamp. Kaiju and Jaeger posters all around the room come to life, shimmering fluorescent green and orange. He finds a thermometer and while Newt is squinting and cringing against the light, Hermann takes his temperature.

“Data?” Newt asks.

“36.8 Celsius”, Hermann announces. “An astonishing achievement, Doctor Geiszler”.

“Perfect!” Newt puffs happily.

They must have succeeded with that cheesy but not unpleasant remedy Newt suggested yesterday: to take an aspirin, engage in long and passionate sex, and drive the fever away. In the evening they were making out and fucking as long and as vigorously as they could. Afterwards they had to change, because they were soaked with sweat, but that was the point. Now Hermann can feel Newt’s shirt wet again, so he says:

“You’d better take this off”.

He helps him out of the shirt, and now Newt’s exposed colourful torso is glimmering in the dim lamp light. They lie in silence, for a while, and Hermann is gazing at the art on Newt’s skin, thinking about the next picture to appear and how it would mean that another monster has come to Earth to destroy and kill. Take your pain and process it into fuel. Grip your fear and forge it into bravery. He knows now how to read this.

“I want a pancake”, Newt sighs suddenly.

“A pancake?” Hermann repeats, surprised.

“Yeah. With Nutella”.

Appetite? A good sign.

“Wait”.

Hermann extracts himself from around Newt and gets up, awkwardly. He’s cleaned some of Newton’s mess so that he could navigate better, but it is still far from the perfect order of his own quarters. He limps across the room, caneless, and Newt shouts “Hey!” after him, because it’s always been Newt who crawls out of bed to fetch anything, but Hermann cuts him off.

“Please allow me to enjoy this rare opportunity to feel the healthiest person in the room”, he snaps half-heartedly.

“Whatever, man. Be my guest”, Newt responds cheekily.

Hermann snorts. If the world doesn’t end too soon, if they have time, and if one day they try out some BDSM, then Newt will definitely receive the spanking he is asking for. The thought is entertaining, and Hermann smirks at it, a little, as he grabs a carton from the table at the far end of the room and limps back. He brought some of Newton’s favourite comfort food to coax him to eat yesterday, but there wasn’t much success.

“What’s that?” Newton says enthusiastically as he’s given the box. “Donuts, huh!”

“I hope it is a suitable substitution for pancakes”.

“Yes, yes, donuts will work, absolutely. Chocolate icing, this is perfection!”.

Hermann settles the box onto the sheets beside them and cradles Newton again as he begins to eat. Not the healthiest diet, but it is still energy, and it pleases Newt, and anyway, if is good for the spirit, then it’s good for the body as well. Tomorrow he will get someone bring here a decent meal with soup, vegetables, and meat. For now he’s just glad Newt is eating at all, so he relaxes and enjoys the view.

It’s a pleasure to watch Newton eat. Maybe it is because of the way his unshaven, three-day-stubble jaw and throat move when he swallows. Or maybe because if he eats a lot, like he does sometimes, when he goes on a binge after a stressful week (not the best idea right now, though) his stomach becomes visible and protruding. Or maybe because Hermann knows that donuts will contribute to the small soft pudge of Newt’s belly. He places a hand on top of it and strokes experimentally up and down, then in circles. This feels immensely satisfying as it is, but somehow the fact that Newt is eating contributes to the pleasure. Newton takes a big gulp, almost choking on it, and says indignantly, in a tense voice:

“I’m not a baby, I can digest!”

Hermann sees, however, that Newt is enjoying the massage just as much, so he says sternly:

“Firstly, you do not excel at digesting, as the last few days have proved. Secondly, your behavior is very often reminiscent of a toddler’s. Thirdly, you shouldn’t talk while you are eating, or you will choke. Do yourself a favour – be quiet and keep eating”.

Newt lets out something that sounds like an ecstatic whimper, but does not speak again. Hermann continues rubbing his belly. Sometimes he lets a finger slide down into the bellybutton and linger there for a moment. Then he goes on, big circles, small circles, tracing the ink lines, going over them. Newt’s lower tummy, coloured yellow, is soft and cool, for it has been empty and idle for a couple of days. The upper part, coloured orange, is harder and warmer as it is being filled and worked right now, doing its job and releasing energy (thank you very much, Hermann knows enough biology to know how the digestive system generally works).

Half way through the third donut Newt’s stomach gives a loud gurgle.

“I thought I told you to be quiet”, Hermann says coldly.

Newt laughs out loud and squeezes his shoulder affectionately and glares down at his belly.

“Shut up, you!” he shouts at it. “Or _der Meister_ will punish us!”

It is now Hermann’s turn to laugh.

“I will forgive this just once”, he warns in the same cool tone, knowing full well it is driving goose bumps all over Newt’s body. “Now go back to eating”.

And while Newton is finishing off the remaining donuts, Hermann can feel the skin tighten just a tiny bit under his touch. The box falls to the floor, empty, and Newt sighs, tired and contented.

“That’s it, I’m done”, he says, and adds tentatively, as Hermann lifts his hand to cup his cheek, “no, please… don’t stop…”

So Hermann continues stroking his tummy all over, every bit of it, but always downwards and always clockwise, because it is good for peristalsis. He knows Newton appreciates the sentiment, for he hums contentedly and arches his back slightly into the touch. Hermann could stand it, cold-heartedly and indifferently, if he so wished, but he doesn’t want to. Tonight he wants to be warm and caring, and gentle, and very, very good to Newton. The poor devil is still ill, a little comfort is certainly needed; so he kisses Newton on his warm swollen lips. When they come up for air, Newt’s eyes are dark and liquid, and he is smiling.

“You dig my curves”, he says.

“You have no proof of that”, Hermann replies, slyly.

“Yet this is what I choose to believe”.

“How typically amateurish and unscientific of you”, Hermann mumbles and runs his hand up and down Newt’s torso.

He kisses his chin, and then under the chin, and then his throat and Adam’s apple. He brushes his lips against Newt’s nipple, causing a shivery sigh, and proceeds to kiss the green monster on the mouth. He moves downwards, to where he is truly drawn right now – the softness of Newt’s belly. Hermann places small kisses across Kaiju’s scales and yellow curls and bites the little bump beneath the navel. Newton begins to shake, so Hermann has to hold his hips as he traces his tongue into the bellybutton and touches the knot at the bottom. Maybe it is a bit too close for now; Hermann surfaces and goes back up to kiss Newt on his flushed cheeks and mouth.

“You totally dig my curves”, Newton breathes out.

Of course Hermann ‘digs’ his curves, because these are the curves to kill for. His shooting (rock)star of a colleague possesses a small and beautiful body, smooth, colourful, warm and cuddly, and pleasantly plump in all the right places. Hermann totally ‘digs’ the way Newt’s shirt stretches in the front sometimes. He also ‘digs’ the cute little muffin-top, peaking over the back of Newt’s ridiculous skinny jeans. He sees it sometimes when he turns away from the blackboard in the lab while Newt is bending over some bluish mess on his table. Were his mind not so organized, it would be distracting; but Hermann Gottlieb takes pride in control over his thoughts, so the muffin-top is more of an inspiration than distraction.

“I have never said anything remotely reminiscent of this”, Hermann snorts in fake indignation.

“But this is what you think”.

“Are you claiming to be able to read minds now, Doctor Geiszler?” Hermann teases, “for it would be very much your line of work. Same methods, same level of credibility”.

Hermann lifts his hand in the air to emphasize his point, but Newton presses is back onto his belly.

“No, I do not claim to be able to read your mind, however simple the task is”, Newt sticks his tongue, as if saying – see, two can play this game; “but mark my words, one day we will drift together, and I will find out all your dirty fantasies and prove I was right”.

You probably will, thinks Hermann, as he goes back to rubbing Newt’s belly gently.

“Drift with you!” he exclaims. “No, thank you, I do not want my brain fried”.

“You think my mind is dangerous to you?” Newt smirks.

“Your mind is dangerous to everyone, yourself included”, Hermann responds.

They both laugh. Words are harsh, but the tone is affectionate and touch is soothing and velvety. Hermann squeezes and pinches Newton’s belly fat. It feels so good and looks so adorable that he cannot help teasing Newton a little.

“Why, Doctor Geiszler”, he says pensively, “I was under impression that rock stars were supposed to be tough and hard, not squishy and pillowy”.

Newt isn’t baffled for a single second.

“This is because you operate incomplete data, dude”, he answers without hesitation. “I am a soft-rock star, as simple as that”.

“A what?”

“Soft rock. You know, it’s like hard rock, only soft. Pretty much like light metal. Which is like heavy metal, only light”.

This time they laugh for a full minute. Hermann can feel Newt’s body heave under his hand.

“And what’s with all these ‘doctors’, Herms?” Newton questions. “We’ve been in this bed for, like, three days, and you still can’t call me Newt?! Wasn’t much of a problem before!”

It is because you like me ‘talking science’ to you, imbecile, Hermann thinks and chuckles.

“Newt”, he says.

“That’s better”, Newt encourages.

“By the way”, Hermann says, turning his attention back to Newt’s belly and resting his hand on the orange-coloured upper part, “do you know a curious fact about some species of newts? During the mating season…”

“I know everything about newts!”

“…males’ bellies become orange to attract a possible mate. Are you looking for a mate, …Newt?”

They could’ve laughed but they do not. Newton is silent for a moment; then he takes a deep breath and brushes his lips against Hermanns, not quite kissing. His face is radiating heat and yearning.

“Why, do you find it attractive?” he whispers.

Hermann knows that they are both aroused. He kisses Newt more forcefully, now that he means business, and caresses his belly, chest and hips; then slides his hand down, into Newt’s boxers, and wraps it around his hardening cock. Newt hisses faintly into his mouth, and Hermann breaks the kiss to smile at the look on Newt’s face.  


“Irr..resistibly”, he stutters as he feels Newton’s fingers on his own member.

They do not talk much afterwards, but for an occasional sigh or chuckle, kissing and running eager hands across each other’s bodies. Hermann shifts them to the side and moves upwards, so that they are lying chest to chest and hips to hips. Newt tangles Hermann’s bad leg with his own, supporting it securely, and takes control as his hand begins to rub their cocks together, pre-cum helping to smoothen out the friction. The pace is leisurely rather than frantic, and Hermann feels more sleazy than passionate. They both are still sore after yesterday’s endeavor, so they move their hips lazily and kiss with eyes closed. Hermann feels his cock pressed into Newt’s underbelly every once in a while, and it is driving him closer to release. When he feels they are both on the verge, a sudden idea makes him shift their position again. Now that his both hands are free he flips Newt on the back and crawls on top of him. The thought and the action push him over, and he’s twitching and thrusting, semen spluttering onto Newton’s belly. As soon as Newt realizes what he has been up to, he comes too, mere heartbeats later. When they both are spent, Hermann slumps to the side and presses his forehead to Newt’s shoulder. They lie in silence, panting, for a while.

“Dirty move, Herms”, Newton says dreamily.

Hermann can think of several sassy replies to this, but he doesn’t bother to utter any. He looks up at Newton’s heaving chest and belly, shimmering faintly with sweat. He sees pearly drops of sperm gather into a small puddle in the bowl of Newt’s navel. He wants to memorize it, preserve the image for future reference or maybe a lonely night when Newt is not with him.

“I could use a shower”, says Newton.

“Tomorrow”, answers Hermann and wipes Newt’s stomach clean with the discarded shirt. “Laundry, shower and proper food, all tomorrow. Or, technically, today”.

“Heh”, Newt chuckles, “I bet you were scared I’d lose weight if I wouldn’t eat”.

Hermann didn’t really think of it, to be honest, while there could be more serious implications of Newton’s disease. Now that he is on the way to recovery, Hermann notices that, perhaps, yes, Newt is a bit thinner than he used to be.

“Why do you think I have donuts here”, he says.

“Fear not, I will make up for it to you as soon as I am sure that I can hold down my food. Now, make it dark again, and let it be tomorrow already”.

Hermann turns off the lamp, wraps Newt in the blanket and his arms, and falls asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> der Unerträgliche - the insufferable  
> exeat (Lat) - he/she may leave, a term used by doctors when the patient is discharged  
> der Meister - master
> 
> PS It doesn't really show here, but this pairing has been my inspiration to remember my rusty German.


End file.
